


Female Anatomy

by Shipping_Details



Category: Supernatural
Genre: BAMF Dean, Bisexual Dean, Cas is a cutie, Crack, Female Castiel, Female Castiel/Female Dean Winchester, Female Dean Winchester, Female Kevin Tran, Female Sam Winchester, Feminist Themes, Gen, Gender or Sex Swap, Genderswap, Minor Castiel/Dean Winchester, Non-Consensual Touching, Protective Dean Winchester, Shopping, eventually. .., it all depends on what you guys want to happen there..., magic boobs appear, slightly AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-07
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-01-14 21:50:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1280062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shipping_Details/pseuds/Shipping_Details
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Winchester brothers can handle any challenge. They've hunted demons, saved the world, and literally been to Hell and back.<br/>But there is one thing that even Sam and Dean aren't brave enough to face.<br/>Period cramps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Trouble With Breasts

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! So... This is my first fic... Ever... I would really appreciate any feedback! <3 
> 
> Dean wakes up to find some chick in Sams bed, and no Sam...

“You know…” Dean sighed, sliding a full magazine into his .45 and setting it on the bed beside him, “if you stare at that thing for too long your eyes’ll melt.” Sam glanced reluctantly up from the glaring laptop screen for a moment, and watched as his brother worked cleaning the last of the weapons they had used earlier that day, which were scattered across one of the identical full size beds that took up most of the room, the one not occupied by Dean. Shotguns, knives, pistols, and a javelin were spilling over onto the carpet… It had been a nightmare to get that last one from the Impala to the room without causing panic among the other guests.

“It’s just for a few more minutes. I’m checking if there’s anything we need to catch on the way back.” Sam mumbled, rubbing the heels of his hands across his eyes before refocusing on the page of local police reports in front of him. Nothing stood out to him in particular, but it was hard to tell when the words kept blurring.

Dean finished cleaning off the machete he was holding and packed everything back into the duffle bag at his feet. “Anything good and awful?” He asked as he wandered across the room to the dinky table Sam was still stationed at, grabbing a beer from the rooms dorm style fridge and draining half of it along the way.

“Not really.” Sam admitted. “Unless you want to check out the guy in Maryland who swears Elvis sings him to sleep every night…”

“I’m good.” Dean pushed the laptop screen down, almost hitting Sams still scrolling fingers. “But you’re not. When was the last time you even slept dude?” Sam opened his mouth to reply, but Dean cut him off. “For more than forty minutes in the car.” Sam slowly closed his mouth, and Dean knew he’d won. “Go to bed Sammy. I’m not doing any hunts with you dead on your feet, and I’m sure as hell not carrying you into the bunker again when you’re too tired to move.”

“I don’t think dropping me on my face and then dragging me fifty feet really counts as ‘carrying me inside’ Dean.” Sam argued, pushing back from the table and slouching over to his bed where he flopped down fully clothed and rolled onto his back.

“You’re lucky I didn’t leave your unconscious ass where I dropped it.” Dean grumbled, finishing his beer before hitting the lights and climbing into his own bed. It was quiet for a few minutes, and Sam had almost fallen into his usual comatose slumber when he remembered something.

“You r’member-ta bury the body thistime?” Sam slurred, his eyes still closed.

“Yes. I remembered to bury the God damned body. Shut up and go to sleep.” Dean growled.

Sam smiled, and drifted to sleep.

~

Dean woke suddenly from his dream of chocolate strippers, and he wasn’t sure why. Sitting up slowly, he casually checking the room for anything that may have woken him. Not seeing anything, Dean relaxed and threw the covers off of his legs. He placed his feet on the cold floor and stood up into a stretch that made his back pop loud enough to wake the dead. A glance over at Sam’s bed revealed that his younger brother was still out cold, with only the tips of his hair sticking out from under the quilt. Dean wasn’t too concerned about actually waking him, the kid could sleep through damn near anything if he was tired enough. However; as Sam was usually up long before he was, Dean was left wondering what time it was. Judging by the dim light around the curtains covering the room’s only window it was way too early, maybe six in the morning. They didn’t need to head out for another three hours at least. Dean briefly debated trying to return to his dream, then decided to just say ‘screw it’ and grab a shower before Sam woke up and used all the hot water exfoliating his hair, or whatever. On the way to the bathroom he clipped his hip on the table.

"Sonofa bitch!" He breathed, rubbing his hipbone absently. Was it his imagination, or did his boxers feel a bit too tight? 'maybe it's time to lay of the pie a little', Dean thought, groping the bathroom wall for a light switch. He found one, and the florescent bulb flickered reluctantly to life overhead. Dean hadn’t used the bathroom the previous night, and upon seeing it for the first time he let out a small groan. It was crappy, to say the least. The shower had no curtain, there was duct tape holding part of the toilet seat together, and the rectangle of bright white paint over the sink revealed two things. There are actually people in this world who steal mirrors, and this room was not originally painted yellow…

Dean shrugged. There was soap in the shower, and a towel on the rack so he really didn’t give a shit. Besides, he’d seen worse. Closing the door behind him, Dean turned the shower on and left it to warm up while he pulled his shirt off over his head. He was just about to step out of his boxers when he thought he heard someone say his name. He turned the water off and listened for a moment.

"Dean?" The voice was so soft, and feminine that at first he was sure he was just imagining it. He was just about to turn the water back on when he heard the voice again, louder this time.

“Dean! I can’t breathe!”

Okay, he definitely was not imagining it! Dean threw the bathroom door open and charged back into the main room.“Get up Sam!” He shouted, moving to the lamp between their beds and flicking it on so he could locate the bag of weapons stuffed between his mattress and the wall.

“Dean?!” The voice, which he could hear now was clearly a woman’s, came from right behind him. Grabbing a knife from the bag Dean spun around to face his brothers bed, and found himself staring down at the gorgeous woman sprawled there… I mean gorgeous. For a moment it was all he could do to keep his jaw from falling open, so he just stood, knife hanging from his hand slack at his side, gaping at her. Her shoulder length light brown hair was splayed across the pillow, sticking out in all directions, and her generously lashed eyes were staring up at him with just as much shock as he was sure filled his own. There was something almost familiar about her sharp, yet delicate features, and Dean felt his brow furrow as he tried to remember if he’d ever seen her before.

“…Dean?” The girl whispered, confusion coloring her face as well as her voice. “What the hell happened to you?!” She gasped, seemingly in a struggle for breath.

“Are you hurt?” Dean asked, ignoring her strange question and kneeling down next to her. Warm hazel eyes followed his movements with obvious perplexity.

“Uh… I don’t think so.” She murmured slowly. “I don’t know! I’m having trouble breathing. It’s like somethings sitting on my chest.”

Dean turned his attention to the girls heaving chest which was, admittedly, more generously endowed than he would have expected from a girl with her build. Other than that he could see nothing out of place, so he was willing to bet anything that it was the double D’s that where causing her the struggling to inhale. It took Dean a moment longer than he would have liked to tear his gaze away from her straining button down shirt, which looked to him at least two sizes too small.

“I don’t see anything wrong.” He assured her, trying to sound as soothing as possible. It was surprisingly easy with his voice sounding as light as it was today. “There’s nothing on you.” ‘Other than you’re abnormally large funbags…’ Dean thought. “Can you sit up?” He extended his hand, and she took it. Together they managed to her sitting up right, and Dean took a few steps back to sit on his own mattress. The first thing the girl did was stare down at herself, Dean assumed she was checking for injuries and thought it might be best to give her a moment to catch her breath. He waited patiently as she turned her hands over at least thirty times, then ran her hands over her face and neck like she was feeling it for the first time. It wasn’t until she tugged the collar of her shirt out to peer down it that Dean decided to speak up again. “So.” Dean paused to clear his throat. “ Now that you’re not suffocating under your own cleavage, hows about’ you tell me who you are and where my brother is?” he said, growling a little in an attempt to get his voice back to it’s normal octave.

The woman finally turned her attention away from her stomach, which she was flexing and poking experimentally, and turned pink. “Uh, Dean?” she mumbled, glancing up at him sideways before blushing again and averting her eyes to the comforter covering her legs. “Would you mind maybe putting a shirt on?” She asked, turning her head even further away from his body as she spoke.

Dean stared at her for a moment in disbelief before chuckling. “Oh pardon me. Your poor virgin eyes! If you didn’t wanna see shirtless guys you came to the wrong room princess.” He scoffed, pulling the plaid button down he normally layered over his t-shirts off the floor and shaking it out.

“Just put the shirt on you prick!” The girl retorted, her hand flying up to block her view when he stood to shrug into the sleeves.

“I am, I am. Don’t get your panties in a bunch.” Dean grumbled, rolling his eyes as he fastened the last of the buttons without bothering to look down.

“Alright. Shirt is on, see?” The girl peeked at him through her fingers before dropping her hands from her eyes and turning to face him. “We good?” Dean asked, let himself flop back onto his bed. The woman just stared at him for a moment before slowly nodding. “Alright,” Dean began, adopting the smooth voice he normally used when speaking to crime scene witnesses and mourning families. “Lets start off with the basics. What’s your name?”

“Um…” The girl murmured, still staring at Dean like he was a ghost. A minute passed in silence and he decided that they could come back to that one. It wasn’t really vital information at the moment.

“How do you know my name?” Dean continued, speaking as evenly as he could. The girl continued to look more and more confused. He asked a few more simple questions, but the woman just avoided answering and fidgeted uncomfortably. It was becoming clear that she wasn’t going to get him any closer to finding Sammy, and eventually Dean couldn’t keep the irritation off of his face or out of his voice. After another minute of silence on her part, Dean gave up. He stood and started angrily shoving things into bags, pointedly turning his back on the girl as he packed.

“Dean, I really-” The woman began to but dean interrupted, cutting her off mid sentence.

“You know what,” Dean turned away from the backpack he was cramming shirts into and walked over to the table in the makeshift kitchen. “I don’t really care who you are.” He had lost all patients, and was starting to yell, “I just want you to tell me what you’re doing here, and where the hell my brother is.” Dean snapped, plucking Sams cell phone from the table and punching a few random buttons. “And I suggest you tell me before I call the cops.” It was an empty threat, and the girl seemed to somehow know it.

“Bullshit.” She countered, rolling her eyes at the thought. “You’ve been a wanted fugitive for the past nine years!” She tossed the covers away and swung her long, model like legs to the floor before Dean could come up with a response, and for the first time he could see her entire body. She was tall for a girl, taller than him, and thin in the extreme. Her breasts looked like the only fat on her body, and were disproportionally large compared to her hips, which didn’t look all that different from a boys. All in all she was exactly what you might expect from a Victorias Secret model. So her outfit was puzzling, all ill fitting plaid and denim that hugged her too tight across the chest, and hung loose about her stomach and hips. Dean worried that her pants might fall off if she tried to walk. No sooner had the thought occurred to him than the girl took one step, and pitched forward as if her center of balance was off. Dean surged forward, steadying her before she could fall on her face. Once she was safely vertical, having regained the ability to stand on her own again her jeans dropped to the floor in a pool about her ankles.

‘Called it…’ Dean thought to himself. She looked down at her legs in confusion.

“I shrank!” She exclaimed in horror, tugging at the loose fabric of the underwear she was wearing… men’s underwear…

“Are those…” Dean took a step back pointing to the blue boxers she was still tugging at in wonder. “Are you…” He looked closer at the shirt she was wearing. “Are you wearing my brothers clothes?!” Dean asked.

She didn’t answer him, she was too busy stepping out of Sam’s jeans and admiring her own legs to pay attention.

“I really need to know what happened, and where Sam is.” Dean begged, as threats and courtesy obviously weren’t working. “And please…” He stressed, “Please, for the love of God skip the details.” The thought of hearing anything about Sam’s love life made him shudder, as did the thought of it happening in the same room he had been sleeping in last night. But he was never going to think about that detail… Ever. “Also, if you could give me a time when he might be back, that would be swell

The woman nodded agreeably, and climbed back into Sam’s unmade bed. “I take it you haven’t had the chance to look in a mirror yet today?” She asked casually, folding her legs so that she was sitting crisscross atop the pillows. Dean blinked at her slowly.

“No… I haven’t looked in any-… Can you just tell me where my brother is please?”

“I think it might make everything a little easier if you went and had a look in the mirror first.” She insisted, Dean flopped into the folding chair beside the table and dropped his face into his hands.

He could feel a migraine blooming to life behind his eyes, ‘Boy always picks the crazies…’ he thought bitterly. “We don’t have a mirror

“Okay…” The girl sighed, “I guess there’s only one way to do this then.” She mumbled, slapping her hands down on her thighs, and sitting up straighter. “I’m Sam” She said and paused, waiting for Dean to say something. He just stared at her for a moment, before nodding.

“Okay.” He agreed. 

“You don’t believe me.” She… He stated incredulously.

“No, I believe you.” Dean assured him, crossing his arms over his chest. “This is a real funky town, anything could happen.”

Sam rolled his eyes at the code word. “Funky town is if someone’s got a gun to your head.” Sam informed him, “Wonderland is ‘are you really you’.”

“How the hell am I supposed to casually slip wonderland into the conversation?!” Dean grumped at him. “It’s impossible!”

“How is that impossible?” Sam demanded. “I can think of at least three different ways you could have- Never mind, the point is you believe that I’m me, and I’ve somehow turned into a chick overnight.”

“Hard not to believe you when you roll your eyes like that. Your bitchface transcends time, space, and apparently gender.” Dean mumbled, brushing his fingers through his hair absently. Sam watched this movement and was reminded of his next point.

“Yeah, well that’s not really all…” Sam hedged. Dean glared at him, the glare that said ‘just spill already’, and waited for him to continue. “I’m not the only one who’s magically swapped sex.”

Dean stared at Sam blankly as his mind worked. He realized that he could not remember once looking down at himself the entire time he had been shirtless earlier, he had not attempted to use the bathroom yet today, and his voice still sounded way off. He considered this, and the fact that Sam as a girl looked a bit like their mother, in complete silence. Sam was just starting to wonder if Dean was freaking out, and if he should say something when the older brothers head suddenly shot up.

“Sam…”

“Yeah?” Sam asked slowly, still not sure if Dean was going to lose his shit.

“Sam… Am I hot?” Dean demanded, his face intense. “Because if you’re hot, and I’m not I’m gonna be real pissed off!”

Sam gaped at him. “Are you kidding?”

“Hell no!” Dean yelled. Sam continued to stare at him in exasperation.

“Dean… You just woke up with a sister and a vagina, and your biggest concern is how attractive you are?!”

Dean cringed slightly. “Sam, I would appreciate it if you refrained from using that word.”

“What, vagina?”

“Seriously dude, knock it off. You know anatomically correct words freak me out… ” Dean grumbled, moving from the table back to his bed.

“Uterus.” Sam whispered with a blank face as Dean settled himself. “Penis, ovaries, clavicle.”

“Dude! That’s gross, shut up!” Dean shouted, but to his shock, it came out as more of a shriek towards the end, and Sam’s eyes widened in shock. “…That did not just happen.” Dean said firmly, turning his back as a grin started forming on Sam’s face.

“I think you may have just shattered my eardrums!” Sam chortled.

Dean jumped up and flung a pillow at his brothers head, which the younger man dodged easily. “Cram it…” Dean mumbled, grabbing his discarded jeans off the floor and stepping into them in an attempt to hide his embarrassment. He succeeded in getting them to just above his knees before they stuck. “Damn it…” Dean growled, tugging viciously at the stiff fabric for a minute before giving up and sitting back down on his own bed with the jeans still clinging to his knees. “This is not going to work.” He sighed in frustration.

“No! Ya think so?” Sam asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I thought I’d just fight around these!” He said, grabbing his boobs. “Ow! Shit!” He exclaimed, dropping his hands from his chest like they had been burned, only to bring his arms back up to form a cradle around his breasts with a pained expression on his face.

Dean watched him in amusement. “Having trouble there?” He laughed. Sam scowled at him.

“You’re just jealous that mine are bigger.” Sam mumbled, rocking back and forth waiting for the dull ache radiating across his chest to fade.

“Yeah… Looks like loads of fun.” Dean kicked his jeans off and pulled his shirt away from his body to peer down. “They’re a perfectly respectable size!” He argued, letting his shirt fall back into place. “Boobs are boobs man. Size means literally nothing.”

“You just keep telling yourself that mosquito bites.” Sam said with a smirk.

“Enjoy having back problems in your thirties.” Dean snapped back.

“This is stupid…” Sam said irritably, “What the hell are we arguing for?! We need to figure out what happened.”

“Good point.” Dean nodded. “Any ideas?”

“We could call Kevin? Maybe there’s something in the bunker that can help.” Sam suggested.

“Sounds good.” Dean agreed, “Once we’ve got him looking we can pray to Cas and see if he’s got any idea what’s happening. Hand me my phone.” Sam glared at him, but didn’t argue as he retrieved the cell phone from the table and chucked it at his face. Dean caught it, barely, and flipped it open to hit one on his speed dial. The phone at the bunker rang once… twice… three times… “Hello?” An attractive voice answered just after the third ring and Dean pulled the phone away from his ear, glancing at the screen in confusion. He had hit the right button… But the voice on the other end of the line was definitely not Kevin’s. Sam tilted his head at Dean questioningly.

“That’s not Kevin.” Dean mouthed dramatically, pointing to the phone he was holding about a foot away from his ear.

“Hello?!… Dean? Sam?” Dean brought the phone back to his ear hesitantly. “ … I know you’re there, I can hear you breathing!” The woman accused, her tone impatient. “Can you please say something?! I’m kinda’ freaking out here!” Dean listened to the woman rant and realization dawned on him. It may not sound like Kevin, but it sounded like Kevin.

“I’m here buddy, calm down” Dean responded, shocked again by the sound of his own voice. Kevin was surprised too, if his sudden cessation of yelling was any indication.

“Aw shit. Not you guys too?” Kevin moaned.

“Fraid so.” Dean replied, pulling the phone away from his ear and hitting speaker so that Sam could listen in, and his hands would be free to tug at the jeans that were starting to cut off circulation.

“Wait…Which one is this, Sam or Dean?” Kevin asked. Sam opened his mouth, but Kevin was talking before he could answer. “No! Don’t tell me, don’t tell me! Both of you say hello, and I’ll guess who answered the phone! Okay?! Go!”

Sam rolled his eyes, but obliged. “Hello.”

“Hello.” Dean echoed half heartedly.

“Dean answered the phone.” Kevin proclaimed confidently.

Sams head swiveled around in shock. “What?!” He cried.

“How in the hell did you get that from ‘Hello’?!” Dean demanded.

“Well… don’t take this the wrong way or anything… but Dean, you always sound bitchier in the morning.” Kevin whispered. “I think being a chick might actually have intensified it…” There was a moment of silence as a grin spread across Sam’s lips, and before he started laughing, filling the room with bubbly sounding giggles.

“Yeah, fuckin’ hilarious.” Dean hissed, rolling his eyes at his brother. “Listen Kevin,” he said louder, trying to make himself heard over Sams ridiculous chortles. “We’re a little freaked out with this whole situation, anatomically speaking. So we’re gonna see if Sam can find anything on the net, I’m gonna call Cas, and then we’re gonna start heading your way. I want you to dig around the archives for anything even remotely similar to this, and how to fix it. Comprende?”

“Where would I even start to look for something like this?!” Kevin shrilled causing Dean to wince hold a palm over his ear.

“Start in Gods and Deities.” Sam instructed, finally having composed himself. There were tears in his eyes from laughing so hard, and he absently wiped them away. “See if there’re any beings that specialize in…” Sam trailed off, struggling for words.

“Genderbender, Freaky Friday type shit.” Dean finished for him.

“Got it.” Kevin said, and they could hear him starting to shuffle through papers before the line went dead.

Dean flipped the phone closed and looked over at Sam, who had retrieved his laptop and was already searching for reports of ‘claimed unanticipated gender reassignment.’ It took him only three minutes to come to the conclusion that this was not a worldwide phenomena.

“Dean.” Sam sighed, easing the computer shit and pushing it off of his lap.

“Cas?” Dean asked, cocking his head slightly to the side in question.

“Cas.” Sam affirmed with a nod.

Praying wasn’t a formal affair, at least, it never had been for Dean. He didn’t do the whole kneeling and holding your hands together bit. It just seemed sort of creepy when you personally knew the person you where praying to. Instead, Dean just sort of just… Closed his eyes, and talked to Cas.

“Calling all Castiels, come in Castiel, over.” Dean said, pausing for a moment. He wasn’t sure how angel radio worked, but he liked to give Cas a chance to find his ‘prayer channel’, or whatever, and tune in before he started talking. “We’ve got a bit of a situation down here, and your input would really be appreciated…. So move your ass.” Dean concluded, opening his eyes and settling back to wait. Sam rolled his eyes and his brothers unceremonious choice of parting words, but it usually worked, so he didn’t question it. Seconds passed… Then minutes… After half an hour of waiting Dean started tapping his foot in boredom.

Sam, who had been resting his face in his hands looked up and fixed him with a glare. “If you are seriously tapping your foot right now, I will kill you.”

Dean heaved a sigh and threw himself back against the pillows. “Where is that feathery fucker when you need him?!”

“Dean.” The soft breathy voice came from somewhere near the table, and the brothers stood, turning in that direction. Dean could feel his jaw literally drop at the sight of the woman standing at the foot of his bed. She was stunning, about 5’6”, and had a full hourglass figure that he had never seen outside the pages of his favorite magazines. If Cas didn’t wear the same thing every damn day, Dean might not have believed it was actually him. The angel was in his usual white button down, blue tie, and trench coat. There was only one thing missing but it was pretty noticeable. After a few minutes of silence, during which Sam and Dean gaped at Cas, and Cas’ wide glacier blue eyes stared steadily back.

“Uh, Cas-” Sam squeaked, clearing his throat before continuing. “Cas… Where the hell are your pants?” Sam asked, becoming suddenly interested in the ceiling, if just to have somewhere else to look. Dean scoffed at his brothers bashfullness.

“They were too tight.” Cas informed them with a frown. He brushed his hands over the front on his shirt, smoothing it down to cover more of his legs. “I had to cut them off.” Dean was still staring at Cas -What?! It wasn’t like he was naked! Dean wasnt wearing any pants either.- The shirt was long enough to cover everything that mattered, and Dean was too busy rearranging his mental list of hottest females ever to look away just yet. Jennifer Lawrence had just been bumped down to number three, and that was saying something.

“Why is your hair longer?” Sam questioned, finally snapping his brother out of his staring. Dean rolled his eyes.

“He’s got a bigger rack than you, but of course you’d ask about the damn hair…” Dean muttered, but in Sams defence, it was glorious hair. Cas’s deep brown, almost black hair had grown to his waist. It fell over his shoulders, and billowed down his back in large soft looking curls. Dean glanced at his brother, Sams hair seemed exactly the same length as it usually was… but who knows, the boy really needed a trim… Dean reached up absently to stroke at his own hair, it was still short but felt somehow… fluffier? ‘Damn I need to find a mirror…’

“I don’t know…” Cas finally spoke up, answering Sams question. “I just woke up today, which is strange as I do not sleep, and my vessel seems to have…” He gestured down at his gorgeous new frame.

“Yeah, same… Obviously. Any idea what causes this kind of thing?” Dean asked. “Sam hasn’t found anything suggesting it’s affecting anyone but us. We’ve got Kevin working on it-”

“Kevin. Has he been affected as well?” Cas interrupted, pacing forward a few steps. His shoes where two sizes too large for his feet, and made loud clopping noises when he moved.

“Kevina has also been femzoned.” Dean affirmed, stifling a grin over Cas’s clown shoes.

“Then are you sure it’s only us?”

“No, but Sam checked everywhere within 50 somethin’ miles for any reports. We got nothin’.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s only targeting us.” Sam chimed in from his seat behind Dean on his bed. “Maybe a witch?” He offered.

“I don’t sense any earth based magics…” Cas mumbled thoughtfully, his forehead creased in concentration.

“Trickster?” Dean asked.

“But why?” Cas seemed puzzled, “You two have done nothing worthy of such punishment… lately… and I certainly haven’t. Tricksters specialize in ironic justice, they do not run about casting useless spells.” He shook his head. “I have no idea what does this, but it would not be a Trickster. Perhaps a creature that’s sole purpose is to convert gender?”

“That’s what we were wondering, which is why we’ve got Kevin searching the bunker.” Sam commented distractedly. His laptop was open again, and he seemed absorbed in whatever he was seeing.

“We’re about to head back, if you wanna come lend a hand.” Dean informed Cas. “It’d be nice to have someone that doesn’t sleep on the research team.”

Cas seemed to consider for a moment before nodding. “Yes, I think it would be best if I accompanied you.”

“Alright, I’ll start loading the Impala. Sam, you good?”

“…Yeah,” Sam answered, slowly tearing his eyes away from the computer he had reopened. “but I think we need to make a few stops before we leave town.” Sam turnedthe computer around for Dean and Cas to see.

Cas squinted at the black and red web page in confusion. “Who is Victoria?” He asked, his confusion abruptly turning to concern. “And what is her secret? Is she a demon?”

“You are not serious!” Dean grumbled.

“What?!” Sam said defensively. “We don’t know how long we’re going to be like this, and I don’t know about you two, but I don’t want to be wandering around half naked!”

Dean looked away from the computer to glance over at Cas’ bare legs, and then down at his own. He hadn’t given much thought to the fact that if he needed to fight something, he was now without a place to hold his weapons.“Fine.” Dean conceded. “We can stop at the mall on the way out.” He reached for the keys on the nightstand, and bent down to grab the duffle bag strap, hefring it over his shoulder on the way out of the room. “Cas! Grab my pants and get in the damn car.” Dean called over his shoulder.

~

Dean hated leaving his car in a parking garage unattended almost as much as Sam hated leaving his laptop in Deans car in a parking garage unattended. The need for pants was strong, or he would have insisted on parking at least a block away. As it was, he had reluctantly paid for parking, and was now trying to find a spot as far away from other vehicles as humanly possible.

“Would you just park already?” Sam muttered, not intending for his brother to hear.

“Sam, do you know how many hit and runs happen in parking garages?” Dean demanded, carefully pulling into his chosen parking spot. Sam rolled his eyes at him. When Dean was satisfied with his parking job, he inched his door open hesitantly, and began to squeeze out without his door touching the car next to him. Sam was making the same painstaking efforts to avoid his brothers wrath. Cas had simply teleported out of the car, rather than risking a dent in the Impala, and watched the two from his place by the bumper.

“Okay.” Sam sighed, swinging his own door closed a moment before Deans. “Everyone ready?” Dean looked down at the sweater he had tied around himself like a skirt, making sure it was still covering everything. Sam had fashioned a belt out of some of the rope they usually kept in the trunk, Cas had closed his trench coat for the first time that Dean could think of. As long as Deans skirt thingy didn’t spontaneously make a dive for the floor, they were good.

“All set. Let’s do this.” Dean said tensing almost the same way as he did in preparation for battle.

“Oh, wait a second.” Sam grabbed Dean’s shoulder, ignoring his irritated protests, and pulled him back before turning to face Cas. “Cas, have you ever had a female vessel before?” Sam asked seriously. Deans annoyance faded as he understood. This was a pretty important conversation to have…

Cas thought for a moment. “I do not believe so. Not within the last 16 hundred years, at least.” Sam glanced at Dean, and Dean nodded his approval.

“Then there are a few things you’re gonna need to know.” Sam began gently.

Cas wrinkled his brow in confusion, “Such as?”

“Well… Um…” Sam stammered, throwing a desperate glance at Dean who rolled his eyes.

“The rules are simple,” Dean interrupted his pitiful attempts at speech. “don’t talk to guys unless Sam or I are with you.” Dean explained. “It’s not safe, and you don’t owe them your time.”

“Why?” Cas questioned.

“Because…” Dean considered his phrasing for a moment. “Some men don’t treat women the same way they treat other guys.”

Cas still looked confused, but he nodded his acceptance of this fact.

“Okay. Now we good?” Dean asked, looking between his brother and Cas. Neither one said anything, but Dean took Sams slight head dip as an affirmation. “Alright!” Dean clapped his hands together, put on a huge smile, and adapted the girliest voice he could. “Shopping!”

Sam rolled his eyes and turned his back on his brother, dragging Cas along as he headed for the entrance. “C’mon, let’s get you two some freaking pants already.” 

Dean jogged to catch up with Cas, who was a few feet behind Sam, who froze just inside the door once he opened it. Cas and Dean both bumped into Sams back, shoving him further into the mall and stumbling in after him. Dean straightened, his irritated grumbles trailing off as he took in the scene before him.

“What… What is this?” Cas breathed. Dean glanced back at the angels terrified face, which he was sure matched the one he was currently wearing. Taking a deep breath, he turned back toward the chaos. Dean hadn’t set foot in a mall since his date with Stephanie Ramirez when he was sixteen, and that had been a stripmall… This place was ten times that size, and it was fucking packed.

“Shit.” Sam hissed under his breath. “What month is it?!”

“…What?” Dean asked, bemused.

“December.” Castiel whispered matter of factly.

“Shiiiit…” Sam enunciated. “Shit!”

“Shit.” Dean agreed with a groan. It was Christmas again. “I swear to God, this damn holiday just happened!”

“Yeah, Dean…” Sam sighed in exasperation, “That’s the thing, it tends to happen every twelve months.”

“Shaddap.” Dean snapped at his brother.

“Where are we even supposed to start?” Cas whispered, interrupting the brothers banter, fear was still evident in his voice. Sam winced in sympathy; he couldn’t imagine how disorienting this must be for someone who had never been subjected to abnormally large crowds of vicious middle aged women on a bargain hunt, and hormonal teenagers flirting like primitive monsters… “Um… We could start with underwear and work our way out?” Sam suggested unsurely.

Dean nodded in agreement, his face transforming into the mask of a warrior. “Good plan. Which stores first?”

Sam pulled up the map of the mall he had saved on his phone and studied it for a moment before flipping it shut. “This way.” He stated confidently, and began making his way through the crowd. Dean took hold of Cas’s hand, and set off after his brothers head, which bobbed above most of the crowd a few feet away. A few minutes later they were standing outside of a blue and white store full of bustling women, and unenthusiastic boyfriends. None of them could muster the courage to make the first step.

“What is an Arie?” Cas asked, eyeing the sign above the door with distrust.

“No idea.” Dean answered, he was still holding onto Cas firmly by the hand. He was so short now that if he got lost in this crowd, it could take hours to find him. “Let’s go find out.” Dean said and stepped through the doors, tugging Cas along with him. Sam trailed a few feet back, looking like he might run if anything happened to them. Immediately a woman popped out of nowhere and was right in Deans face, it was a testament to his restraint that he didn’t deck her on reflex.

“Hi there! Welcome to Arie. Is there anything I can help you ladies find?” The woman, her name tag identified her as Amber, asked enthusiastically. Dean faltered for a moment, and felt Cas’s grip tighten on his hand. Obviously he was going to have to do the talking, no biggie. He’d watched a few chick flicks with shopping montages.

“Yes, Amber!” Dean matched her enthusiasm as best he could, and smiled brightly back at her. “My friends and I need new bras and underwear. You see, we just flew in, and my sister!” Dean gestured to Sam, who was still lingering near the exit. “My sister let our bags get stolen.”

“Oh, that sucks!” Amber sympathized, patting Dean on the shoulder. “Well just give me your sizes and I’ll help you find a few good replacements!”

“Oh, yeah. Of course!” Dean glanced down at his chest. “Uhh… I’m a medium.” Dean guessed, and glanced over at Cas and Sam. “My sister is a large, and Cas here is an extra large.” He finished with another smile. Ambers brow wrinkled in confusion. “Um… Okaaaay. Why don’t you head back to the dressing room and I’ll see what I can do.”


	2. Losing Money, Trying On Things. The Shopping Business.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Just survive long enough to make it out of here…" Sam thought. "I refuse to die in a fucking mall."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's such a short chapter guys! I'm really swamped with schoolwork.

The salesman turned and disappeared further into the store, leaving the three alone to shove their way towards the baby blue and white sign on the back wall reading fitting rooms. By the time they got there, Dean was panting, Cas’ eyes had gone even wider in wonder at all the bright colors and movement, and Sam had been elbowed in the ribs at least twice by annoyed customers. Thankfully the dressing room was quieter than the store itself, and a bit dimmer. Separate changing stalls lined three walls, and there was a large cushiony couch in the middle of the remaining area that Cas immediately perched on. The fourth wall was covered in mirrors, and Dean moved toward it in excitement. There was only one other woman, and she was too busy cleaning up the discarded bras left by other shoppers to pay them much attention.  
Dean hurried over to the mirrors and froze, his mouth falling open in shock. “No way…” He breathed, watching a smile slowly making its way onto the face of the woman standing before him. “No fucking way!” Dean was hot! Like… Really, really hot. He’d always had delicate features and full lips for a guy, and now that his jaw line had become rounder, his eyebrows thinner, and his eyes just a touch larger with fuller lashes… Well it was hard to believe he had ever been a guy! Dean ran his fingers through his short hair, which was also familiar, yet different somehow. It felt thicker between his fingers, and he could swear it was a centimeter or so longer. Dropping his arms to his sides, Dean looked over his new body appreciatively. “Oh yeah.” He grinned, doing a little twirl to take in his amazing hips. He wasn't as full bodied, as Cas, or as slender as Sam… Still, it worked for him. “This is completely acceptable.” As long as he was stuck being a chick, Dean was glad to be just as attractive as usual, even when wearing a sweater for pants.  
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sam admiring his own reflection beside him. Even Cas stood up and came a little closer for a better look. “This certainly is a disconcerting change.” Cas mumbled, and Dean nodded his agreement just as Amber rounded the corner into the dressing room, her arms piled high with garments of all shapes, sizes, and colors. She set the huge stack down in the couch and the three men gathered in closer to watch her separate it into three smaller piles. Once she was finished she shoved a pile at each of them, and turned to leave, calling “Let me know how those work out!” Sam and Dean stared after her desperately, while Cas picked up the items that had fallen out of his arms.  
“How does one wear such attire?” He asked, holding one of the fallen bras at eye level to better examine it.  
Sam turned expectantly towards his brother, who was carefully picking through his own pile of undergarments.  
“I’ve taken plenty of them off.” Dean assured them with a confident shrug. “It can’t be that difficult to do it in reverse.”  
~  
Three hours, five bruises, and one broken nail later Sam stomped out of the dressing room and tossed the approved articles of clothing onto the counter in front of Amber.  
“Did you find everything you where looking for?” She asked cheerfully. Sam smiled back at her as well as he could manage, and wondered what she was going to think of the dressing room door that had been split in half when she found it. Cas was, apparently, ticklish. Which was something Dean had learned the hard way while trying to help him hook his bra.  
“Sure did.” Sam mumbled, watching as Dean and Cas made their way out of the fitting room and started to move towards him. His brother made it to the counter first, and was just in time to hear Amber announce the total of their purchase.  
“That’ll be $175.38. Do you have a member’s card?”  
“I’m sorry, how much was that?” Dean demanded, leaning against the counter to peer at the computer screen in front of her. “Are you serious? There can’t be more than two pounds of fabric in that bag!”  
“Dean- ah… Deanna, cool it.” Sam ordered, pulling his brother back to their side of the counter with one hand on his shoulder. He ignored the baffled frown Amber aimed at him while he fished cash from his oversize pocket to hand her. Cas retrieved the bag, Sam collected their change, and they both ushered Dean out of the store and away from the stares of startled shoppers. They found the closest bench , and sat down to recuperate.  
“Jesus christ.” Dean huffed, letting his head fall into his hands, and thus missing the irritated face Cas made at him. “That was a freaking nightmare! How can a scrap of uncomfortable fabric, and a few bows cost that much?!”  
“I have no idea.” Sam sighed, “But we’re not done. We still have to find actual clothes.”  
Dean groaned, and Cas frowned more than usual. Which was pretty much the same thing for Cas. “What more do we need?”  
“Pretty much everything.” Sam pulled his phone out and checked the map. “There’s a place on the next floor that looks like it has everything. Shirts, pants, dresses-” Deans head snapped up, and a huge grin spread across his face.  
“Oh hell yes.” The oldest Winchester jumped to his feet, a strange glint in his eyes. “I don’t know about you ladies, but I’m gonna get me a skirt, and I am going to look fine as hell! Lead on Sammy!”  
Sam rolled his eyes but obligingly heaved himself off the bench, dragging a still stunned Cas along with him, and began leading the way to the elevators. “Whatever, just remember that we’re probably going to be fighting some evil shit in these clothes at some point. Don’t throw practicality out the window completely, okay?”  
“Dude,” Dean held up his hands in a gesture that was probably supposed to be reassuring, “It’s me you’re talking to! Practical is my middle name.”  
Cas frowned and stared up at Sam questioningly. “I thought his middle name was Ennis?”  
Dean choked, and shot an accusing glare at his brother. “You fucking traitor!”  
The disapproving gazes that turned their way caused Sam to wince more than his brothers anger, and he was grateful when they finally made it into the elevator.  
‘Just survive long enough to make it out of here…’ Sam thought while he listened to his brother threaten Cas bodily harm over the secrecy of his full name. ‘I refuse to die in a fucking mall.’  
~  
“Dude. This is the best decision I have made in my entire life.” Dean twirled around outside the bathroom, watching as the mini skirt fanned out around his hips, and grinned. He’d seen the thing through the window when they’d passed Hot Topic, and almost ran over a kid with a bright green Mohawk in his hurry to claim it. It was black, pleated, had a belt with two buckles, and damned if it didn’t look fantastic on him. So he’d ignored Sams bitching about the practicality of fighting in a skirt, and grabbed a pair of black shorts to shut him up about seeing his underwear constantly. He’d had to agree to letting Sam pick out his shirt, a plain white tank top that looked just like the undershirts he usually wore, but it had been worth it.  
‘If you’ve got the legs’ Dean thought, smiling again.  
“It is quite flattering to your figure, Dean.” Cas complimented as he emerged from the bathroom they’d all gone into to change. Dean glanced up at the angel, now clad in a sleeveless sundress the exact shade of his eyes, and blushed. This new breathy voice that Cas now had was throwing him off.  
“Thanks Cas. You don’t look half bad yourself!” Dean allowed himself a long stare at Cas, and refused to be ashamed of openly checking out his best friend, it wasn’t like Cas hadn’t been doing the same thing to him all day. Sam had ended up dressing the angel after Cas had picked out a pantsuit that was not only bright orange, but was three sizes too large and insisted that he was fine with it. The dress was a simple blue lacey thing that fit tight around Castiels chest, and flowed out below the bust. Sam had chosen simple white flats to match, and he had to admit, it looked great. Even the trench coat that Cas seemed determined to continue wearing, even though it was too big and kept sliding off his shoulders to dangle about his elbows, somehow only added to the cuteness. Sam really knew women’s clothes. Probably because he had spent more time actually being around them than Dean had.  
‘And I’m not going to think about that ever again.’ Dean shuddered.  
“Did the princess say if he’d be ready soon?” Dean turned his attention back to Cas, “I’d really like to get something to eat before everything closes.” They had ended up spending the majority of the day trying to find clothing, and it was going on 8:30.  
‘Wouldn’t have taken so long if the sizes made any fucking sense.” Dean thought irritably. ‘What the fuck is a size 9? 9 what?! Feet? Kilograms? Cats?’ He shook his head in exasperation. How did women even do this?  
Deans inner rant about the bullshit that was fake pockets was interrupted when the bathroom door swung open and Sam stepped out.  
“Alright, we good?”  
Dean managed to keep his jaw from dropping, but it was not without effort. Damn… And he thought his legs where good! Sam had chosen a pair of simple jean shorts, a white tank top that matched his own, and a button up flannel plaid that was pretty much the girl version of the one he’d worn the day before. Sam had pulled his hair back with the same rubber band thingy that was in the end of the side braid Dean had done for Cas. Overall he looked very… Sam.  
“Yes.” Cas answered Sam, breaking through Deans sudden burst of admiration and jealously. “We are ‘good’, and Dean requires fuel.”  
Sam nodded agreeably at the thought of food. “I think there’s a diner on the way out of town. Pretty sure they have pie-”  
And that was all it took. Dean was in the car before Sam and Cas could even make it to the elevators.


	3. Dinner Disaster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Dean teaches an asshat that you ask before you touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a bit rushed. Please excuse my spelling...

The diner Sam directed Dean to was on the highway at the very edge of town next to the last gas station for around 55 miles. It didn’t look like much, but as long as they could make something edible Dean decided he really couldn’t care less. The boys climbed out of the car, Dean and Cas being very careful not to move their legs too far apart in their new skirts, and moved toward the door to the dingy eatery.

Dean got there first and held the door open, not even trying to hide the fact that he was checking Cas out… Again. Sam rolled his eyes and shoved his brother through the door ahead of him. To their relief the inside if the place looked a hell of a lot cleaner than the outside had. There were only two tables being occupied at the moment, Dean hoped that meant that food would come sooner rather than later. The woman wiping down the counter to their left told them to take a seat anywhere and she’d be right with them. Dean nudged Cas lightly when he didn’t immediately move, and after an irritated glance over his shoulder the angel stalked forward to find an empty booth. Sam saw what was about to happen before his brother did. He had been keeping an eye on the table full of leering men that was just ahead of them on the right, and noticed their expressions change when Cas started walking in their direction. One of the guys in the middle whispered to the guy next to him, who smirked and nodded. Cas was a few seconds from passing their table, and Sam only had time to think ‘ _Fuck! I cannot hide that many bodies!_ ’ before the man sitting on the isle facing the door turned and slapped Cas on the ass as he walked past. “Nice dress babe.” The man chuckled, turning back to his friends with a huge grin. Everyone was frozen for a moment. Cas had stopped walking, and Sam held his breath when Dean went ridged in front of him. The man was reaching for a high five that never landed when Dean took two long strides forward, catching the man’s wrist in his left hand and placing his right forearm behind the surprised douche bags neck. Sam winced at the sound that followed the man’s face hitting the table when Dean wrenched his arm behind his back, and again thought ‘ _Fuck_ ’.

The assholes friends made a move to stand up, but Dean raised his head and gave them the look. The ‘do not fuck with me if you want to keep your face’ look, that was somehow even more terrifying on his female face. The four others took one look at Dean snarling over their whining friend, and quickly sat back down. “What the hell lady?!” The man with his face pressed to the table was trying to sound pissed, but any intimidation it may have been worth evaporated when his voice cracked.

“Get the fuck off me you crazy-”

“Shut. Your. Mouth. Boy.” Dean growled. He was being quiet, but the diner had gone so still that Sam could hear every syllable where he stood watching in resignation from a table away. “You and I are going to have a talk.” Dean continued calmly. “More specifically I’m going to talk, and you are going to try and convince me not to dislocate your shoulder.” He pushed the kids arm a little higher to make his point, and Sam noticed that he really was just a kid. Couldn’t be more than 20… ‘ _Oh well_ ’ He thought, and he sank into the open booth beside him to watch. ‘ _Better he learn late than never_ ’. Past Dean and the grumbling kid, Sam noticed that Cas had also turned around to watch with a look of irritated curiosity.

“Do you know why you’re in this position right now?” Dean demanded, shifting to get a better grip on the wrist he held.

“…Caus I touched that other bitch-” The boy interrupted himself with a shout as his arm traveled further up his back in the wrong direction. “That other lady!” He amended, panting slightly in pain.

“That’s exactly right.” Dean confirmed with mock enthusiasm. “Good for you kid! You guessed it on the first try! Now next question. Did my friend tell you that you could lay your fucking hands on her?”

There was a pause before the boy eventually grumbled “… No.”

“I see! Can you tell me why then, you thought it would be alright for you to go ahead and touch her?” Dean asked, his voice slowly losing its false warmth until he sounded hollow and dangerous. “Please explain to me exactly what made you believe that would be an acceptable course of action.”

“I didn’t mean anything by it-” The kid started to protest, but was again cut short when the pressure on his shoulder joint increased. “Come on lady! Let me go! Just look at what she’s wearing!” He pleaded, desperately trying to scoot away from the pain in his arm. Dean lightened up and took a minute to look over at Cas while he seemed to consider the boys words. The whole time everyone, including the rest of the junior jackasses at the kids table, just sat and waited for Dean to continue. Which he eventually did.

“How the fuck does her clothing have anything to do with your actions.” It wasn’t really a question, but the kid answered anyway. That was a really bad decision on his part.

“Are you kidding me?!” The boy shrieked. “She’s practically begging for it!” For the third time in barely as many minutes, Sam found himself reduced to a single thought.

‘ _Fuck_ ’.

Everyone watched as Dean leaned in and started speaking into the boy’s ear. “Listen here you little bitch, and listen good. A woman’s outfit is not a fucking invitation. I don’t give a shit if she walked past you naked, you are never entitled to invade another person’s personal space. And you are never to touch another individual, especially in the way you just touched my friend, without their consent. Are we clear?!” Dean demanded with a snarl. The boy squeaked, but nodded his head against the table top.

“Awesome.” Dean flashed a  smile at the back of the kids head before shoving his twisted arm sharply up until it made a loud ‘pop!’ Sam shook his head and covered his face with one hands while he listened to the boy howl and cry, and Dean instructing his friends to get him to the closest E.R. and out of his fucking sight. He didn't look up until the front door opened and closed and the sobbing faded away with the sound of a car engine. When he looked up Dean was still glaring after the retreating morons, and Cas appeared to be caught between a stern frown and hysterical laughter. The diner was quiet for a few more seconds before the lady behind the counter started clapping.

“Well done honey!” She giggled, beaming at Dean and hopping a bit as she clapped. “Your meals on the house! Yours and your lovely girlfriends!” She exclaimed shooting a smile and a wink over at Cas, who looked very confused. Dean just grinned.

“Why thank you! You hear that Angel?” The older Winchester asked walking up to a still very flustered looking Castiel and dropping a kiss on his cheek, which immediately turned red. “Dinners on me! Come on Sammy! Move your ass!” Sam stood and trailed after his brother, and he didn't miss when Dean ‘subtly’ slid his arm around Cas’ waste to steer him towards his chosen booth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait guys! School's a bitch. What do you think of the slight Destiel? Yes? No? Is that a thing that should happen?   
> Let me know is there's anything else you'd like to see! I write for you! <3


	4. Cake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~Cake~

The food was better than they'd been expecting, and the grateful waitress made sure that each of them got extra helpings of everything that was ordered. Three burgers and two salads later Sam had to all but beg her to stop bringing out more food. He couldn't keep her from bringing Cas free milkshakes no matter how he tried. Mostly because Cas kept drinking them all and staring at his empty glass woefully until it was refilled.   
“You’re gonna get too fat to fly if you don’t stop that.” Sam laughed, kicking Cas lightly under the table. Cas finished his seventh milkshake and looked up with a frown.  
“Impossible. My teleportation abilities do not depend on-”  
“He’s fucking with ya’ Cas.” Dean interrupted, bumping Cas playfully with his shoulder. Cas continued to frown, only now he looked more confused.  
“Again impossible, Dean. Sam is at least four feet away from me, and if I am to understand human intercourse-”   
Dean was saved from having to once again interrupt when the waitress appeared with a slice of apple pie that she placed before Dean with a flourish.   
“Here you go darlin’!” She said with a sly smile. Dean was opening his mouth to say he hadn't ordered any pie, not that he really minded it being there, pie was pie. The waitress winked and tipped her head toward the counter, before Dean could say anything she was off to tend to her other customers. The three men turned their attention toward the counter where an attractive man in his mid twenties was sitting, drinking a cup of coffee, and smiling at Dean. When he saw he had their attention he cocked his head to the side, and raised his coffee in a toast before taking a sip and smiling again.   
Sam rolled his eyes at the idiocy, and turned back toward his unfinished salad. However, when he noticed the look on his stupid brothers grinning face….  
“Dude no.” Sam hissed across the table.  
Dean didn't even break eye contact with the man at the counter while he responded.“Dude. yes!”  
“Dean, you’re a woman now. You understand what that means?” Sam asked calmly.  
“Hell yeah I do!” Dean smiled even wider and waved at the guy as he slowly slid a fork full of pie into his mouth. “Two words Sammy…” Dean finally made eye contact with his little brother, affording Sam a good look of the pie he was currently chewing. “Multiple. Orgasms.” Dean swallowed his pie and scooped some more into his mouth.  
“Two words man.” Sam retorted. “Unplanned. Pregnancy.”   
Once Dean finished choking on the bite he had been chewing, he set his fork down and pushed the pie slowly away. The man at the counter looked disappointed, but he shrugged and went back to his coffee.   
“I’m confused.” Cas pipped up after a few minutes of awkward silence. “It was my understanding that you are attracted to women, Dean.”  
“I am!” Dean laughed, throwing an arm around Cas’ shoulders for emphasis.   
“Then …” Cas’ brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of the information before him. Eventually he gave up. “I don’t understand.”   
“It’s like this, Cas. I love pie-” Dean began.  
“You’re just going to make this harder for him to follow.” Sam interjected.  
Dean ignored his brother and continued on with his explanation. “I love pie. I could eat pie all damn day and never get bored. Pie is pretty much my desert of choice, but that doesn't mean I’m gonna ignore the whole damn bakery. Cake might not be my favorite, but if a German chocolate three tier masterpiece is sitting right in front of me you can bet your ass I’m gonna try that shit.”   
“… So… In this metaphor… The world would be a bakery?” Cas asked slowly.  
“I told you…” Sam grumbled as he pulled out his phone to scroll through his messages. “You always get too complicated.”  
“Shut up, it was the simplest parallel I could think of!” Dean said defensively.   
“Is the pie a symbol for your sexuality in it’s entirety, or an example of your preference for women?” Cas questioned, breaking up the argument that was forming between the Winchesters.  
“Alright, pie is women. I like women all the time.” Dean explained patiently. “Cake is men. I don’t like every kind of cake. You follow?”  
“So…” Cas started. “To confirm... You like cake and pie, but-”   
“He’s picky about what kind of cake he’ll put in his mouth.” Sam chuckled, flinching when his brother leaned across the table to punch him in the arm. “Ow! What the fuck?!” Sam complained.  
“What I put in my mouth is none of your damn business.” Dean growled as he settled back in the booth next to Cas, who was nodding.   
“I believe I understand.” The angel said confidently.   
“Great.” Sam mumbled, still rubbing his shoulder. There was definitely going to be a bruise.   
“I just have one question.” Cas continued.   
“Shoot.” Dean said, briefly tightening his arm around Cas’ shoulders in encouragement.   
“Sam, what about you?”   
The younger man froze under Cas’ blue gaze. “Me? What about me?”   
“Do you like cake?” It was quiet for a moment before Dean started ‘coughing’.  
“STOP LAUGHING!” Sam shouted, and when it came out a bit louder than he had intended it to, he glanced around the diner in embarrassment.   
“I’m not laughing!” Dean argued, trying to stop his giggles from escaping.   
Sam ignored his brother and turned his attention back to Cas. “I don’t like cake like Dean does, no. But if I found my favorite desert in the world and it happened to be cake… I don’t think I’d mind.” Sam explained, rolling his eyes at the stupid cake analogy.   
Cas thought about it for a moment. “That seems fair.” He nodded his understanding.  
“Wonderful.” Sam said flatly. “Now can we please leave? Pie guy is still giving you eyes, and I refuse to be an aunt.”   
“Killjoy.” Dean muttered, finally having stopped giggling.   
“Dean!” Sam warned as the men slid out of their seats, carefully, considering their new outfits.  
“Alright! Fine! Kevins probably having heart palpitations by now anyways, and I’m not feeling so hot.” Dean put a hand on his abdomen with a wince and fished his keys out of his skirt pockets. “Here,” Dean tossed the keys at Cas, who caught them reflexively, then looked down at his hands like he shouldn't be touching them.   
“You drive.” Dean commanded, and had he not been grabbing his jacket from the seat behind him he would have seen the angels mouth fall open briefly.   
“Me?” Cas asked, looking unsure.   
“Yeah, why not.” Dean shrugged the coat on and headed for the exit with the other two following close behind him. The waitress refused to let Dean pay on his way out, and made them all promise to come back again before she let them all leave with a hug.  
“I don’t know how to operate a motor vehicle.” Cas said once they reached the Impala.   
“Don’t sweat it.” Dean opened the back door and slid in with a wince. “Sam can teach you. I promise, it’ll be a piece of cake” Dean noticed Sam grinning at the phrase and smacked him lightly in the back of the head. “Shaddap.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry it took so long Babies!  
> I promise, I will never abandon this work!!!


	5. Cramps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am SO sorry this took so long!!! I'm working on a longer chapter! PROMISE!!!

There are two guarantees in this world. The first is death, but seeing as the Winchesters had completely fucked that one on numerous occasions,Cas could currently hear Kevin praying to anything that might listen (and not kill him) that the second guarantee of life would hold true.  
Wal-Mart never closes.  
So if the boy got a little emotional when the doors slid open in front of them, Cas decided he would keep it between the two of them. It was their third stop, and at two in the morning, it was really their only hope.  
“I certainly hope that you know where we are to begin our search.” The angel casually stated in the hopes of getting a smile from Kevins now female face, which was very expressive. Cas was slightly concerned that if he didn't do something an employee might ask why the girl running through their store looked so panicked. The last thing they needed right now was a delay. Luckily, his plan worked. Kevin tucked his shoulder length silky hair behind his ear with one hand, his other was busy holding up his too big pants, and turned to grin at Cas.  
“Don’t sweat it man. I had a single mother, and a very loving girlfriend once upon a time. This ain't my first rodeo.”  
The boy lead the way past isles of food, toys, and school supplies before turning down one with baby products and toiletries.  
“All right…” Kevin sighed, pulling box after box of tampons and pads off the shelf. “ How the fuck did this become my life…”

~  
Dean is no stranger to physical pain. He’s been shot, stabbed, beaten, tortured, and had sex with a guy who didn't know how to prep someone. This was not pain. This was fucking agony. He wouldn't exactly say that he prefered Hell… but it was close. He felt like someone was slowly pulling out his intestines, and was sitting in the kitchen on a towel that was covered in his own blood. Pair that with the worst headache of his entire life, and it would be understandable that Dean Winchester was about to murder his brother.   
“Sam.” Dean growled, shifting around uncomfortably. “If you don’t shut the hell up, my freaking skull is going to explode.”  
“I can’t…” Sam sobbed at him from his perch on his own towel, which was draped over the couch. “I h-have no i-idea whats happening! I’m ju-ust so sad!”   
“Maybe if you would stop watching Titanic then you wouldn't be having this problem!”   
“Stop yelling!”  
“Stop crying!”  
“Just because you’re emotionally constipated does not mean that the rest of us have to be! And just fucking talk to Cas already!”   
Dean was opening his mouth to demand what the fuck his brother had just implied when his phone started playing I Kissed a Girl. ‘You got lucky this time, you jackass.’ He thought, snatching his phone from the table in front of him and hitting the talk button.  
“What do you want Charlie?” Dean grumbled.   
“Well hello to you too grumpy.” A decidedly male voice responded. “I hope you don’t talk to everyone like that! No wonder you’re not getting laid.”   
Dean might have commented on the sudden baritone that was his adopted-little-sisters voice a few hours ago, but honestly he had stopped giving a fuck about the time Sam and he started staining his upholstery. instead he resigned himself to an apology.  
“Sorry… It’s been a hell of a day.”   
“I can hear that. Gotta say, I’m a little relieved I’m not the only one that woke up with a surprise in my pajama bottoms.” Charlie chuckled. “So, any idea what the fucks happening?”   
“All I know is that Kevin and Cas are taking forever while I slowly bleed out through my second favorite sweatpants.” Dean was prepared for full on laughter, or at the very least amusement. He was pleasantly surprised to hear a sympathetic sigh from the other end of the line.   
“Though break man, you’ve had a uterus for… What, 12 hours?” Charlie asked.  
“10 and a half…” Dean corrected her with a groan.   
“That is rough.”  
“Tell me about it. Got any advice?”   
“I’ve got better. I’m about 30 minutes away, and when I get there I am going to show you every trick in the book.” She assured him, and Dean could hear the smile in her voice.   
“Well bring an extra helping of that wisdom. I think Sams cried enough to cause actual water damage.”   
“Figures that your cycles would be synced…” Charlie chuckled, and Dean was about to ask what that meant when the line went dead. He tried not to be irritated that she’d hung up, it was irrational, but then again his brother was currently crying, and screaming at Kate Winslet for “lying” to Leonardo Dicaprio… Maybe the rules changed when you were on your period. Fuck if he knew. The only things Dean was currently sure of, where that women were fucking superheroes, and if Charlie and Kevin didn't hurry the fuck up he would start breaking shit. He missed Cas...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Give me ideas?!

**Author's Note:**

> So what did you think? Should I continue?  
> And please, for the love of Cas, someone teach me how to tag things?!


End file.
